Chasing Cars
by DarkAngel91398
Summary: A/U: Ivan and Arthur have never been close, but after an explosive quarrel, Ivan runs away. Alfred, forever wanting to be the hero, goes after and Arthur can't help but wonder what exactly it will take to set everything right once again.. Especially after a kiss.
1. Chapter 1

Chasing Cars

Alfred F. Jones watched confusedly as the one person he looked up to, Arthur Kirkland, and the other boy in their club, Ivan Braginski, started to argue viciously over... Well, to be honest, the American boy didn't know.

What he did know, however, was that the trio had gathered in Arthur's tree house as they usually did for their little meetings for the club they made up.

"That's stupid, Ivan! What in bloody hell do you expect to accomplish by doing that?!" Arthur yelled angrily, his vivid emerald eyes glinting with subdued rage.

"I expect," the Russian sighed in an attempt to calm down, "to do what I want."

"Oh, please! That is a horrid idea!"

"It is not. It is a great idea and you're just jealous that you did not think of it yourself!"

"Bloody bull!"

"Take that back now!"

Alfred frowned, his brows furrowing together in a rather cute manifestation of his frustration, as he tried to piece together what the two elder children were quarreling about.

He paid attention enough (slightly, anyway) to Arthur's huffing to know that the British boy had some sort of loathing towards Ivan.

He had also listened to Ivan's infuriated venting to Yao Wang about a particularly raging grudge that he had against Arthur.

But, Alfred couldn't help but think that something was horribly wrong. He never could recollect a time where the two had gotten into such a nasty argument, whether personally or publicly.

The boy blew his falling dirty-blond cowlick from falling into his sapphire blue eyes and noticed that the two were now nose-to-nose. Literally.

"You're wrong!"

"I am right, da?"

"Wrong!"

"Right!"

"W-R-O-N-G! Wrong as Alfred's mathematics homework!"

"Right as in the hand that is a fist waiting to break every bone in your stupid face!"

".. Where are Francis, Yao, and Matthew?" Alfred demanded to no one in particular, stealing a glance around him.

"Ivan, god help you now, I will put you in a world of hurt!"

"Oh? With what? Your imaginary fairy friends, da?"

"THEY ARE REAL, GIT!"

"Kolkolkol…"

"Guys?" Alfred grimaced.

He sure did not like being able to read the air, the aurora, that polluted the room with a ghastly dark feel. Under his bomber jacket, Alfred shivered and felt his stomach knot up.

"FINE, ARTHUR! I'LL LEAVE, DA! I'LL LEAVE AND I WILL NEVER, EVER COME BACK NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU BEG AND CRY! KOLKOLKOL!"

The furious Russian-accented voice Alfred had grown accustomed to be quiet and slightly husky had become alien and foreign; it was loud, fiery, and raspy as if Ivan had been screaming for years.

"Ivan!" Alfred heard his voice, strangely small, cry for the tall boy.

"FINE! LEAVE, YOU BLOODY GIT! I HOPE YOU LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK HERE AGAIN! I HOPE DEMONS GNAW ON YOUR BONES!"

Arthur's voice too had become a stranger to Alfred's ears as the pain and wrath hidden in the Brit for so long exploded violently.

"Iggy!" he shrieked again in a vain and desperate attempt to make the boys break off their fight, using the pet name he had called Arthur when they were small.

Ivan's narrowed amethyst eyes stole a quick peek into the sapphire blue eyes that had unnoticeably filled with tears.

Ivan felt his jaw lock; the youngest of the club members was about to cry, he could tell from the shimmer of the aqua-colored orbs that pleaded with him to stop.

He usually would enjoy watching someone that wasn't him or his sisters cry, the abuse he had suffered made him a tad sadistic, but he were looked into the pools of ocean blue.

"Dudes, why are you fighting?" Alfred shouted, trying to make the boys focus on him for the however long needed.

"It's not important, da. I was just about to leave." Ivan huffed angrily, hissing the last words in Arthur's direction with dangerous eyes.

"Yes, and I was about to show him the door." Arthur growled coolly as his glares brushed Ivan's gently.

"B-B-But!" the American whined, rising from the red beanbag where he sat before sitting down once again.

"Burn in hell, Kirkland." Ivan growled as he began his descent down the ladder.

"I am not going to burn where you were born and live!" Arthur snarled.

He kicked a doormat over the opening in the wooden floor and turned back to the younger child in the room who looked heart-broken and stunned.

Arthur felt a pang of jealousy wash over his body. Surely, Alfred and Ivan weren't close? They didn't seem to love each other exactly, but they also didn't try to murder each other either.

"What's wrong, Al?" Arthur asked as he approached the fourteen-year-old boy.

"B-But... But... I thought we were all friends..?" Alfred asked, his credulous blue eyes flowing into his friend's green.

Arthur bit his bottom lip with a half-annoyed, half-aggravated emotion before guilt filled him. Alfred could be so innocent and child-like…

He had forgotten about Alfred during the meltdown with Russia-born Ivan. He had completely, utterly, totally erased the boy he considered practically his only true friend from his mind.

"Iggy…" Alfred said, his voice starting to crack with pain. "Ivan, he was our friend..."

Alfred was helpless as tears crept down the apples of his cheeks and trickled down his chin in front of Arthur.

He was too worried about Ivan to care about the way he looked. Everyone in the world knew the Russian lived with abusive parents and had spent a good part of his life hopping around in foster homes.

What was gonna happen now? Ivan had always been such a big part of his life, just like everyone else, that Alfred felt as if parts of him had just been shattered to pieces.

"He's going to be okay, Alfred. He's Ivan Braginski." Arthur said, forcing himself to try to get rid of the shame inside him.

"But, what if his parents hurt him again! You threw him out!"

"He's going to be fine."

"Not-uh! He's gonna get hurt, or sick!"

"He has his sisters."

"His oldest sister moved away!"

"He still has Natalia."

"She's scary, but she's only thirteen!"

"And? He's sixteen. No man in a white van is going to kidnap him."

"Y-You don't know that, Arthur! Y-You just d-don't! What if he dies because of us?! What if... What if he kills himself, or, or…?"

Alfred found himself shaking with agony from the dispute and he let out a heart-wrenching sob.

Arthur sighed and gently crouched in front of his best friend. Sometimes, he was surprised that Al could be so emotional.

"Al, do you need a hug?" the boy asked, shaking his sunshine blond tresses from his face.

He reached out to embrace the kid, but Alfred had shoved him away and stood. Arthur caught himself before he could fall completely back.

"No! I-I gotta find Ivan!"

The boy moved the mat from the ladder entrance and jumped down without even using the rungs to slow down before he darted in the direction of the Russian's house.

Arthur sighed and couldn't help but feel envious that the one person he had feelings for was too busy playing hero to the one teen he despised to hold him.

Arthur pulled himself up, brushed the dirt from his school uniform, and looked out the window where, somewhere was a platinum blond Russian and a dirty-blond American that the Brit secretly held close to his heart.

-End of Chapter-


	2. Chapter 2

Chasing Cars

A/N: Sorry for the poor quality and childishness. The Hetalia cast always seemed a little immature to me.

Alfred frowned as he walked through the barren streets of his hometown. Ivan had never run away or gotten so mad before.

This was something different; Alfred and Arthur had been on opposing sides before, but Al never thought it would mean walking away.

It was different than the time they had had a crush on the same girl and Ivan had stolen her heart only to reject her.

It was different than the time Ivan decided to stalk Yao for an entire year and the Chinese boy had hidden at Arthur's, only for Ivan to be hiding in the closet and for Alfred to try to lure him out.

It was different than the time that Ivan had pegged a football at Arthur's head and the two argued so much, the physical education teacher made them run nine laps.

It was different because they were drifting apart together. Arthur was Alfred's role model. Ivan was his strong friend. And now, they were enemies.

Alfred had to do what he thought was right, being tugged in two. He just hoped Ivan was okay as he looked for the missing teen.

* * *

Ivan felt his heart pounding as he stopped for a breath near the elementary school's playground, his purple eyes shaded by his slightly shaggy hair.

The Russian knew no one was following him, Arthur would never give chase, but he wanted to escape everything that bothered him.

A thought of Natalia caressed his mind and the boy cringed, biting his bottom lip as he realized he forgot his younger sister.

Even if she was terrifying and a little on the stalker side, she was still his sister. She could try to make him kiss her and threaten all of his friends, but he still cared for her.

She would be fine though. Ivan had always taken the blunt of the abuse given, always the one to be hit the most vigorously, the one least doted upon.

"IVAN! IVVAANN!" a loud, familiar voice cried.

Panting still, the tall sixteen year old stood and looked around. Darkness had fallen around his large form and the stars, having been cocooned in clouds, peered eagerly down at him.

This usually meant nothing to the Russian, but tonight, it meant one thing: Alfred was out past his curfew. Alfred F. Jones never was out past curfew.

By the time Alfred went home, his favorite show was on and he was watching. Ivan would know; he had been invited to Alfred's once.

Ivan put the puzzle together quickly and blinked. Alfred was following him. Alfred F. Jones was following him, Ivan Braginski.

But, why? The shorter, younger child wasn't his friend, but wasn't his enemy. The two had nothing against one another, but had a history of not seeing eye-to-eye.

"Ivan!" the shout was closer and Ivan cringed into the warmth of his beige scarf before huddling in a bush.

If Alfred got to him, there was a very good chance Ivan wouldn't be able to leave town as planned..

"Don't try hiding, Braginski! I saw you!" The loud American yelled.

Alfred frowned as he stood in front of the bush where Ivan had crawled and parted it slightly. The "bush" cursed and fixed itself.

"Ha, ha, ha.. I am a bush, not Ivan Braginski!" the voice from the shrub laughed nervously. "Go away now, da?"

"Ivan, dude, I can see the top of your head." Alfred scowled, pulling the bush back.

"Ha.. I am a magic bush with a, um, uh…" Ivan started, thinking.

"A magic bush, huh? I bet Arthur would want to see-!" the former started dramatically.

"Don't you dare think of bringing that, that idiot here!" the purple-eyed boy snapped, popping out of the bush. "You do, and I rip you apart, da?!"

The anger in his voice made Alfred feel nervous and antsy. Said boy cowered slightly and backed away with his hands in the universal "I surrender" stance.

Alfred gulped, his anxious blue eyes flickering. He should have thought about what he said..

"Ha, yeah, sure thing, Iv!" an unnerved chuckle escaped the American mouth, bouncing around in the Russian's ears.

"Why did you follow me, Alfred? Was it Arthur?" Ivan grimaced, standing.

"No! I don't need his permission for anything, god!" Alfred pouted angrily.

"Then why are you here?" the runaway frowned with puzzlement in his eyes.

"'Cause we're friends, bro." the pouting child smiled, looking into crystal-clear purple eyes.

"Alfred.." Ivan murmured. "Aren't you friends with that Brit?"

"I-I dunno.. I just want us all to be friends." the spectacle wearing boy shrugged uneasily.

Ivan sighed, stepping from the shrubbery, and Alfred grinned at him with straight white teeth.

"Thank you.. Alfred." Ivan said softly with a small smile.

"Yeah, no problem!" Alfred chuckled, toying with a lock of hair on the nape of his neck.

Alfred couldn't help the growing anxiety in the air as Ivan stared at him in a way he could only peg as intense. Ivan continued smirking and the American blushed.

Ivan had never given Alfred any special attention and now that he seemed to be, the blushing was entirely too natural.

Ivan's smile grew wider as he approached the younger boy and Al's own wavered, a lump developing in his throat.

"Thanks, Alfred," Ivan said in a husky voice, "For being my friend."

Alfred opened his mouth to say something and abruptly, found the Russian on his lips roughly.

Ivan's lips were cold and slightly chapped, but sweet as if honey had been glazed on them and Ivan was amazed at how smooth Alfred's inexperienced lips were on his.

They were soft rose petals with warmth and the taste of salt against his snow-cold mouth that moved away with a sharp pull.

Alfred's cheeks were a shade of fire engine red and his fingers were brought to his lips that tingled.

He and Ivan were friends, weren't they? Nothing more, right? But… Guys who are friends.. They don't kiss..

"I-Ivan.. Dude.. You didn't tell me you were.." Alfred said, too aware of how close Ivan's large frame was to his own wiry one.

"I'm not. I was simply saying thank you." Ivan blinked blankly.

"Bu-Wha-When did you start saying thanks like that?!" Alfred demanded in astonishment.

"Today. Let's this between us, da?~" the Russian smiled, tipping his head slightly to the side.

Alfred frowned in confusion and would have asked more, but didn't, catching on when Ivan winked at him.

"Um, yeah! Sure! Cool with me!" Alfred laughed.

"Good. Then, I'll leave-." Ivan began.

Alfred shot him a dagger-like death glared and Ivan was shocked at the American: Al had always been slightly uneasy when dealing with him and never fought with him when they were alone together.

"Dude, it took forever to find you."

"Did it?"

"Yeah.. Hey, how 'bout since I'm sleeping over at, uh, you-know-who's house tonight, you stay at mine? My mom wouldn't care."

Alfred prayed Matthew was staying at Francis's house or at their aunt's or else he'd be in for a shock.

".. I dunno.."

"I will tell Natalia you kissed me."

"Fine. I will stay at your house, Al."

The shorter teen smiled and the two began their walk home, talking along the way.

"So, um, uh, Iv, why did you…?"

"I don't kiss and tell, da."

"That's not very fair…"

"Life is not fair. Ask the right people and they can tell you."

"I dunno if any of my clothes will fit you.."

"I can manage. Trust me, you perfect things when you run away a lot."

"Ivan, why isn't your one sister around anymore?"

"… She.. She can't. She moved very far away and she can't visit a lot because of work.."

Silence fell between the two boys and Alfred felt a large hand slip into his. He looked up at Ivan who had spaced out unsurprisingly.

The silence remained between the two until they arrived on the street where everyone lived and parted ways.

"Spokojnoj nochi, Al." Ivan whispered, hugging the youngster tightly in a possessive hug. "Don't tell anyone, da?"

"Yeah, I promise. Not Matthew, Francis, or Yao. Not even Ig." Alfred said numbly, allowing himself to bury himself in the scarf Ivan always wore.

The scent of sunflowers permeated Alfred's senses and the boy found comfort being near Ivan, snuggling closer slightly.

"Good." Ivan said. "I.. I will see you tomorrow?" he brushed a stray tress of platinum blond back as he pulled away.

"I promise. After I leave the house, we'll talk and stuff." Alfred smiled. "Night, Iv."

Alfred allowed the lingering fingers of Ivan to tangle in his dirty blond locks before they left each other's company, Alfred trying to figure out the whole confusing mess Ivan and Iggy had created.

Alfred winced as he saw the light off in the treehouse and half-expected Arthur to have thrown his things out, only for him to realize they were still in the club house.

Alfred swallowed and ascended up the ladder nervously. What if Arthur shot an arrow at him? He was on the Archery team.. What if Arthur threw a heavy book at him?

The negative thoughts engulfed his usual opportunist mind and he cautiously poked his head in before he decided it was safe to enter.

What he couldn't see in the dark was Arthur waiting in his beanbag chair with a hand on the lamp switch.

The light shocked Alfred violently and he saw brightly colored shapes before he saw the green-eyed blond.

"Hey, Iggy!" Alfred smiled a tad uneasily.

"Alfred.." Arthur's voice was throaty and slurred.

Alfred's heart dropped; Arthur couldn't have… The American cringed as he remembered what happened the last time when Iggy was drunk.

It had started out as normal. Ivan was drinking vodka, a habit that he had developed since the age of eight, and Iggy had accidentally taken a swig.

And another and another until the British boy was drunk. By the time he was done downing the strong alcohol, A.) Ivan was about to attack him and B.) Arthur was acting strange.

He was emotional and that night, Arthur was crying to Alfred about his life.

How anyone could find so many things wrong in one's life, Alfred didn't know, but he did know he did not like a drunken Iggy.

"Ig, are you, er, okay?" Alfred asked sincerely as he wrung his hands.

"Jolly good." Arthur smiled sweetly.

"Great!" the former cheered in fraud enthusiasm.

"So, I take it you found him?" the Brit asked, emerald eyes glittering.

"Uh-huh. He was at the park." Alfred grinned.

"That's good. But, can I tell you a secret?" Arthur requested gently. "You'd have to come here first."

"Sure, buddy! That's what friends are for!" the ever-smiling boy laughed, letting his guard down.

Al approached his best friend and came closer as motioned. He stopped inches from Iggy's ear when the Brit turned and gingerly kissed his lips.

Inwardly, Alfred whimpered; twice in the same night, he had been kissed by two of his friends. And to top it off, both had been boys. Boys who now were foes against one another.

Arthur's lips were smooth and soft, tasting like honeyed tea, feeling superb and warm like sunshine. Alfred felt his cheeks burn again, mentally comparing Ivan and Iggy.

Once again, Alfred pulled away from the caress and Arthur held him inches away.

"A-Art, you never…?" Alfred murmured, wide eyed.

"It's the first time I've ever thought of it, Al.." Arthur purred, stroking his friend's hair gently.

"… W-well, I guess it's time for bed.." the younger kid suggested.

"Goodnight, Al." Arthur smiled.

"Night, Iggy." Alfred whispered, slightly shaking as he pulled out of the embrace.

"Oh, and, Al?" the English boy grinned.

"Yeah?" the American asked.

".. If I ever catch Ivan kissing you again, I will never talk to you again."

Shock plastered itself on Alfred's features and he blanched to the colour of old porridge. He nodded reluctantly and a thought broke away from his subconscious barrier.

How did Arthur know Ivan kiss him?

-End of chapter-


End file.
